by Reese Ryan
Max untied the sash of her silk robe. A wicked smile lit his dark eyes upon discovering she wore only panties beneath it. He pressed a sensuous kiss to her lips before trailing slow, tender kisses down her body. He seemed to relish each shudder of anticipation.
Hooking his thumbs in the waistband of her panties. he dragged them down her legs, dropping the scrap of fabric on the floor.
The hunger in his eyes made her belly flutter and something deep in her chest bloomed like a flower welcoming rays of sunlight. What she felt for Max wasn’t just desire. It was need and something more. Something she was afraid to give voice to—even in her own head.
When Max lapped at the sensitive nub between her thighs, all speculation about what tonight meant faded to the recesses of her mind. Her back arched and she clutched at the bedding as the sensation built with each stroke of his tongue.
He slid two fingers inside her, working them until her quiet whimpers ascended to desperate little pleas. Until body trembling, legs quivering and back arched, she tumbled over the edge, his name on her lips. Pleasure exploded in her center and radiated from her core, leaving her on a dreamy wave of indescribable bliss she’d only ever experienced with Max.
He crawled up the bed a little and laid his head on her stomach, his hand bracing her hip. Both of them were silent as she lay there with her eyes closed and her heart rate slowing. She placed a gentle hand on his head.
“Is it okay if I ask about Grandpa Joe now?”
Quinn wasn’t being flippant or judgmental. She understood how Max must feel. She’d always appreciated inquiries about her father when he was ill, but there were times when she’d needed the mental reprieve of not discussing her father’s health. Not being reminded that his life was teetering on the edge.
“Didn’t leave much time for talk, did I?” Max’s reserved chuckle vibrated against her skin. He kissed her belly. “The old man gave us quite a scare. But he got treatment quickly, and they expect him to make a complete recovery.”
“It’s okay to be overwhelmed by what happened, Max. I know how terrifying it is to almost lose someone you love.” Quinn stroked his hair. “My dad suffered a heart attack a few years ago. He had to have triple bypass surgery. We’d just lost my grandmother a couple years earlier, so it was one of the scariest moments of my life.”
Suddenly the timer blared in the other room.
“My peach cobbler.” Quinn shot up. “Actually, it’s your peach cobbler. I promised Zora I’d make one for your family, so I’d better not burn it.”
Quinn slipped from beneath him and gave him a quick kiss before making a dash to the adjoining bathroom to freshen up.
“I won’t be long.” She slipped her robe back on. “But when I return, I don’t expect to be the only one naked.”
Max grinned. “Yes, ma’am.”
Quinn hurried to the kitchen to get the cobbler out of the oven. It wasn’t quite brown enough. But if she returned to a naked Max, there was a good chance she wouldn’t make it out of the bedroom again. So she spent the extra ten minutes there in the kitchen jotting down her to-do list for the next day in her planner. And she tried not to overanalyze the words Max had uttered when he’d first arrived, the desperation in his eyes when he’d said them or the way they’d seemed to reach into her chest and squeeze her heart.
You, Quinn. I need you.
She shook the thought from her mind as she removed the ham and perfectly golden brown peach cobbler from the ovens and turned them off.
Quinn hurried back to the bedroom.
Max’s jeans were on the floor, and he was in bed. His head was buried in the pillow as he snored softly.
She sighed, disappointed they wouldn’t get to finish what they’d started.
Don’t take it personally. The man has barely slept in three days.
Then there was the sheer mental exhaustion that accompanied anguish and guilt.
Quinn stood there frozen for a moment as she watched him. Max was an incredible man. A man she was definitely falling for. Or maybe she’d just never stopped loving him. Quinn pressed a soft kiss to Max’s forehead and pulled the covers up over him. She stared at the empty space beside him.
Rule number three: no overnights.
It had been a hard rule. No exceptions. But wouldn’t it be strange if she went to the guest room and left him alone here?
Quinn groaned quietly. Neither solution was perfect. But waking Max up and sending him home would just be plain cruel. Besides, if she was being honest, a part of her had always wondered what it would feel like to wake up with Max in her bed.
It seemed she would find out. Though this wasn’t quite the scenario she’d imagined.
Twenty-One
Max woke the next morning, unsure of the time. He definitely wasn’t at his own place. And though he was exhausted, he felt as if he’d been asleep for hours.
Rolling onto his back, he threw an arm across his forehead as he stared at the high ceilings with their exposed beams.
Benji and Sloane’s cabin.
He glanced at the empty space beside him in bed, and the events of the previous night came rushing back. He’d crashed and burned spectacularly when Quinn had gone to the kitchen.
As desperately as he’d wanted to be with her, his body had won the battle. The sheer exhaustion of being at the hospital around the clock for the past three days had taken its toll, and he’d dozed off, breaking rule number three.
No overnights.
Unlike their decision to start seeing each other while in town, this wasn’t something they’d discussed.
Not okay, Max.
He hadn’t done it on purpose. But then again, maybe subconsciously he had. Because he’d wanted to spend the night with Quinn since that very first night at the hotel in San Francisco. And now things felt... different between them. Or maybe he was just projecting his own feelings onto Quinn.
Either way, he owed her an apology. First, for falling asleep before they’d actually gotten to the deed. Secondly, for staying over when it wasn’t something she’d agreed to. And though he should probably just be content with their arrangement, a growing part of him needed to know where things stood between them. But first, he needed a shower. And he hoped to God there was a spare toothbrush around here somewhere.
After Max showered and got dressed, he followed the heavenly scent of bacon and waffles to the kitchen. Quinn was in that sexy little kimono again, but this time she wore a nightgown beneath it. Her hair was pulled into a messy topknot.
God, she was gorgeous. His mouth tugged into an involuntary grin.
How amazing would it be to wake up to this woman every morning?
Quinn gave him a sheepish smile, her brown eyes glinting in the sunlight. “Morning, sleepyhead.”
“Sorry about that.” Max dragged a hand down his face. “I don’t sleep this late normally, and I know we don’t do sleepovers...ever,” he added.
Quinn flipped the bacon over on the griddle. “You don’t normally spend three days straight awake at the hospital, worrying about your grandfather’s health, either. So there’s that.” She returned her attention to the stove, but there was tension in her voice.
Was Quinn minimizing his breaking of their no sleepover rule because she genuinely felt it wasn’t a big deal? Or was it because it was a huge deal and she’d rather tiptoe around the subject than address what it might mean for both of them?
Max settled onto a bar stool. “I can’t thank you enough for how you’ve taken care of my family. The food has been amazing and having home-cooked meals has been a source of comfort for us during all of this. I hadn’t had your cooking since—”
“Since I helped my grandmother fix meals for the farmhands that summer.” Her smile turned sad. “My repertoire has expanded considerably since then. Waffles?”
“Please.” He pushed up his sleeves
.
She handed him a mug of piping hot coffee and gestured toward the cream and sugar on the counter.
Quinn joined him at the kitchen island where they ate bacon and waffles with peach cobbler flavored syrup in near silence. Neither of them seemed eager to discuss last night.
“Thank you for breakfast. Everything was delicious.” Max patted his stuffed belly and stood once they were done eating. “Let me get the dishes.”
“I’ve got it.” She stood, too, waving him off.
Max sank back onto his bar stool and cleared his throat. “About last night—”
“Last night was fine.” She moved their dishes to the sink. “Fantastic, in fact,” she added with an almost shy smile. “I certainly have no complaints.”
“Good to hear.” He forced a small smile, uneasy about the wall she seemed to be erecting this morning. “Still, it was rude of me to fall asleep.”
“Extenuating circumstances and all that.”
Max walked over and slipped his arms around her waist. She smelled like summer peaches and sunshine and everything that was good about the summer they spent together. He nuzzled her neck.
Holding Quinn in his arms now didn’t feel like revisiting the past. It felt like a glimpse into his future. But rather than dissolving into giggles or climbing him like a tree—her usual responses to him kissing the sensitive spot where her neck and shoulder met—Quinn’s shoulders stiffened.
Max turned her in his arms and studied her face.
Was she angry with him?
“Look, Quinn, I know how this must seem... Me showing up at your door so late last night and then taking you straight to bed. But don’t think that I—”
“If this is the part where you try to convince me that you didn’t come here just for sex—don’t. That’s the very nature of our little arrangement.” She smirked, returning to the dishes. “I’m obviously fine with that.”
“True, but last night was about more than that—”
“You’re under a lot of stress right now.” She shrugged. “Sometimes, we just need the comfort of human connection to get us through those times.”
She was minimizing what they’d shared last night. As if it was just a meaningless hookup.
It hadn’t been.
And as hard as she was trying to convince herself otherwise, Quinn realized it, too. But then, being with Quinn had never felt inconsequential to Max. And despite the nature of their current arrangement, he doubted that any of their encounters had ever felt insignificant to her, either.
“Admittedly, once I saw you in this little robe,” he teased, tugging at the silken material, “all bets were off. But I honestly didn’t come here to take you to bed, Quinn. I came here because I really needed to see you.” He lightly gripped her wrist to stop her from frantically scrubbing a pan.
The pan fell to the bottom of the sink with a clang.
“Why did you need to see me, Max?” She turned to him, nibbling on her lower lip. Despite asking the question, she seemed apprehensive about his answer.
His shoulders tensed and his heart beat double time.
Just tell her.
Max sucked in a deep breath, then slowly released it. “The past few days, I watched Blake and Parker at the hospital with Savannah and Kayleigh. They’re both damn lucky to have them in their lives.”
He hooked a finger in the sash of her robe and tugged her closer. She braced her hands on his chest to steady herself as she gazed up at him.
“Suddenly, I realized that all the things I’ve been feeling about us lately... I want that with you, Quinn. You’re the only woman I’ve ever been able to imagine a future with. It scared the shit out of me that summer because neither of us was ready for it. But we’re in a different place in our lives now. I’d like to see what the future has in store for us.”
Quinn blinked; her lashes were wet. She seemed apprehensive. And the five or ten seconds of silence felt like an eternity to Max.
“That’s incredibly sweet, Max.” Quinn freed herself from his hold and swiped a finger beneath her teary eyes. “But this is a really emotional time for all of us and—”
“You think this is just some knee-jerk reaction to my grandfather’s stroke?” Max asked.
“I’m not discounting your feelings,” she said carefully. “But I can’t risk mine on something that might only seem real to you now.”
“If you’re not interested in a relationship, I promise to respect that, Quinn. But if this is because—”
“I don’t know if I can do this with you again.” She blurted out the words suddenly, finally meeting his gaze for a moment before pacing the kitchen floor. “With a no-strings arrangement, there are no expectations, so no one gets hurt. But what you’re proposing...that raises the stakes in a way I’m not sure either of us is prepared for.”
Max rubbed absently at the ink on his chest. His wounded heart beat furiously beneath the long-healed skin.
Maybe she was right; he’d timed this poorly. But it didn’t change how he felt.
Max placed his large hands on her shoulders to halt her frantic pacing. “You’re telling me that this is really just about sex for you—nothing more?”
“I’m saying that I need to be sure of my feelings and yours,” she said.
“I am sure of what I feel for you.” He cupped her cheek, his heart racing as she looked at him expectantly.
Say it. Now. Before you lose your nerve.
Max swallowed hard, his eyes not leaving hers. The corners of his mouth curved in a soft smile.
“I’m in love with you, Quinn, and I don’t want to hide that anymore. I want to be with you and only you because you are the most amazing woman, and I am so damn proud of you. My heart belongs to you. It always has. I want everyone to know I’m yours and that you belong to me.” He pressed a soft kiss to her lips. “Is that clear enough?”
Her brown eyes were wide and glossy with tears. She searched his face as if trying to determine the answer to a question she had yet to ask.
* * *
Quinn stood frozen, her heart swelling with emotion and her eyes brimming with tears. There were so many things she needed to say, but where did she even begin?
“Talk to me, babe. Please.” Max rubbed a hand up and down her arm, as if trying to warm her. “Tell me what’s going on in that brilliant mind of yours.”
Wringing her hands, Quinn walked over to the front windows overlooking the lake. The sunlight filtering through the window warmed her skin. She took a deep breath, then sighed, turning back to face him.
“There’s something I need to tell you. Something I should’ve told you before now.”
“Okay.” Max kept his voice even, but worry lines spanned his forehead. He extended a hand to her. “Let’s sit down and talk.”
Quinn put her hand in his and he led her to the sofa in the great room. He squeezed her hand, as if to encourage her, but waited patiently for her to speak.
She turned toward him and met his gaze.
“Last year, I was engaged to a man I worked with. He was my boss’s son,” she admitted quietly. “The engagement didn’t last very long, but that beautiful Marchesa gown I wore to your parents’ anniversary party...it was a splurge for what would’ve been my engagement party.”
“What happened?” Max frowned, gently caressing the back of her hand with his thumb.
“I ended it when I discovered him with his secretary. He felt I was overreacting. His father, who owned the firm, agreed. Neither of them took my rejection well. I stayed on, tried to be professional, like none of it had ever happened. But they held a grudge and eventually pushed me out of the firm. Due to a non-compete clause, I had to wait at least a year before I could work in the industry there again. That’s the real reason I left Atlanta.”
Quinn’s cheeks stung and a knot tightened in her gut f
rom the sheer humiliation of reliving that entire ordeal. One she should’ve seen coming.
She wiped angrily at the hot tears that leaked from the corners of her eyes. “Just like that, I flushed my career down the drain.”
“I’m sorry you had to endure that, Quinn. But you’re not to blame for what happened.”
“Aren’t I?” She tugged her hand from his and smoothed loose strands of hair before securing the knot atop her head. “I should never have gotten involved with my boss’s son, and now I...” She sighed, letting her words trail off.
“And now you’re afraid you’re making the same mistake by getting involved with me.” Max rubbed his chin. “So it’s not just our history I’m battling. It’s your history with him, too.”
She shifted her gaze from his without response.
“Quinn, look at me.” Max took her hand in his again, meeting her gaze. “I know I hurt you, and I am really sorry. I was young and stupid, and I had a lot to learn. I don’t blame you for being wary about getting involved with me again. But sweetheart, I’m not that guy you were engaged to. I’m not even the guy I was thirteen years ago. Hurting you is the single biggest regret of my life, Quinn. We’ve been given another chance at our happy ending. There’s no way I’m going to screw this up again. I promise you that.”
She wanted to believe she could trust Max and that he wouldn’t hurt her again. Because she wanted to be with him, too. She’d mused over the idea. Fantasized about what a real, adult relationship between them would be like. But the cautious part of her that had erected a fort around her heart to protect it was still terrified of taking the leap.
Once bitten, twice shy.
“I know you want an answer right now, Max, but—”
“No pressure, beautiful. I understand now. Take whatever time you need.” Max stood, giving her a half smile. “Thank you again for breakfast. I’d better get back to the hospital.”